In Service
by White Aster
Summary: After losing his first two cassettes, Soundwave finds himself grieving and in debt. His only option is to enter service as a "contractor", an indentured servant, in exchange for his contractee paying off his debt. He hopes only to fix his financial situation and eventually be able to start over. What he'll get, however, is so much more. AU, consensual servitude, fluff, poly


**Title:** In Service  
**Recipient:** **femme4jack**  
**Creator:** **white_aster**  
**Continuity:** G1  
**Pairing/Characters:** Soundwave/cassettes (Ravage, Laserbeak, Ratbat, Buzzsaw, Rumble, Frenzy)  
**Rating/Category:** PG  
**Word Count:** 5878  
**Prompt:** "Mecha "relationship fic" especially if it involves poly relationships, worldbuilding and spirituality. AUs are just fine. Any kind of intimacy, including just friendship, is wonderful. I also have a guilty pleasure for slave fics."  
**Spoilers:** None  
**Notes/Warnings:** Indentured servitude, grief (following non-characters' off-screen deaths), hurt/comfort meta. Also...this is sort of a prequel to the real story here. As the story ballooned in my head, I ran out of time and just couldn't get everything in. Consider this a down payment for the rest of the fic...which will require a lot more warnings. ;P

Also, if you get hung up on some terms, please check out the glossary at the end of the fic. My greatest thanks to HopeofDawn, Fractalserpent, and Femme4jack for shameless ganking of their terms. ^_^;;

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soundwave stared at the datascreen.

The contract was not complicated. No, it was elegant in its simplicity, really. Kilovorns of use, of challenges, of tweaking by contractor and contractee alike had polished and smoothed it into what it was: strong and binding, acceptable and air-tight. No, the general service contract was uncomplicated. The individual service contracts, however, were anything but. There he would need to read carefully, parse every phrase, negotiate or close every loophole. This-handing his life over to the Service Administration-was simple by comparison.

The screen stared back at him, waiting.

Soundwave stood and walked away, restless, needing to pace. A vorn ago he would have wandered into the living area, paced back and forth between the window and the vidscreen. Or perhaps walked the circular hall that led from the entrance, past the living area, to the personal rooms, the washracks.

Now there was only the one-room assigned quarters, with its cracked datascreen, noisy neighbors, and shared public washracks down the hall. The quarters in the midlevel tower were gone, along with everything else.

Soundwave firewalled away the thought that Callback would have been livid at the very idea of his carrier reduced to relying on public allotments, reduced to thinking about doing...this. Another firewall, before the thread could settle in his emotional centers.

Unbidden, a memory file played of one time, long ago, when they had still been freelancing and the credits had run out, leaving him nothing with which to purchase their nightly energon. Soundwave had, while 'Back and 'Bit had been out looking for work, gone to the distribution center and pulled his own ration, then bartered a quick repair for another mech's ration. He'd decanted them into unmarked cubes to hide their origin before serving them to his cassettes. Callback had been too excited about the work he'd found to notice or ask, but Fastbit had smiled at him knowingly as she'd started to drink...

Soundwave paced, spark and docks aching.

'Back and 'Bit would have disapproved. But then, the fact that they were not here to disapprove was the issue. They were gone.

They were gone. Soundwave was on his own. Propriety would not pay their...his debts. And he had burdened his friends enough. It was time for him to take responsibility, and this, though...demeaning...was the most efficient way to do that.

_Enough,_ he thought. _Decision made. Outcome, inevitable._

Soundwave paced back to the data terminal. He keyed in his signatory codes and the form lagged for a klik as it verified their authenticity, then replaced the form with a notification of acceptance. Soundwave's personal comm pinged with a duplicate, as well as a copy of the service contract, links to his service broker's internal site, and an assurance that he would be contacted immediately should any queries about him be submitted.

Soundwave sat there for a long time, staring at nothing. Then, slowly, he rose, pulled his allotment from his subspace and drank the thin, tasteless fuel. The berth, like everything else in the quarters, was too small for his frametype, so he took his customary spot sitting against the wall, propping himself up for recharge.

He fell into the darkness of shutdown gratefully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ravage was just finishing his twelfth extremely boring patrol of the day when his cohortsib pinged him. Laserbeak's message was short: ::Have you seen this?::

"This" was a link to, of ALL things, the Service Administration's offering board. As it was not obviously related to their current employment of protecting OneTech's research labs from unknown (and, Ravage was beginning to believe, illusory) spies, Ravage should not have given the link his attention. As it was, he was bored out of his own claws and latched onto the distraction. ::What are you doing on there?:: Ravage asked as he followed the link and pulled up the board.

::Gathering information,:: Laserbeak replied, his sending thick with familiar sarcastic markers. ::Almost as if it's my job or something. LOOK at it.::

Ravage highly doubted that they were being paid to monitor that particular part of the datanet, but he hardly had room to talk. ::I AM looking,:: Ravage said, doing just that. The link was to a new offering, just on the board that cycle. Communications analyst, twenty- to thirty-vorn term, skill list, proposed annual cost, blah blah... ::What, are you thinking to hire a SERVICE mech for the analyst position?::

::Dearsib, will you finish READING?::

Ravage stopped in the middle of reading the physical identification specs. ::...a CARRIER? What is a carrier doing in service? Where are his symbionts?:: How outrageous that such a valuable mech would be brought to this, to...selling himself. Ravage's optics narrowed. ::What's wrong with him?::

Laserbeak's reply was spiky with interest. ::I don't know. Can't find anything. Maybe we should go ask him. Might be worth our time.::

::You're...wait.:: Ravage huffed, twisting his way around a tight corner and doing a sweep of the area out of reflex. Nothing. Of course. ::Is this about the analyst position or about a carrier?::

::It can't be about both?::

::We do not need to go to the SERVICE RANKS to find a carrier, Laserbeak. We are not THAT hard up!:: Ravage's tail lashed at the sides of the duct he was patrolling.

::Then we will look at him as an analyst. And don't discount him. He's not the typical debtor. He's new. Never in service before. Exemplary public records, two symbionts, perfectly respectable. Not a credit of debt until they got sick.::

::Sick?:: Oh, this just got better and better...

::K-6 virus. Both died late last vorn.::

That, he had to admit, was interesting. Better than the mix of addiction and irresponsibility that usually pushed mechs into that level of debt. Ravage pulled up the contractor's information again. ::You're serious.::

::Am I ever not?:: Laserbeak didn't wait for Ravage to answer. ::Come on, the worst that could happen would be we don't like him and we're out a few joors for the interview.::

Ravage dug his claws into the bottom of the vent, heedless of the noise, since there was absolutely no one there to hear it. ::You are ridiculous. We were already planning on another round of interviews this decacycle.::

::Which we have absolutely no one even remotely qualified lined up for. THIS mech is qualified. I'd give him an interview. And if he passes, he might even stay with us for thirty vorn anyway. Who knows? Look, I know your issues, and we'll treat him like an employee, not a contract mech. It would be no different than hiring him.::

It would, but Ravage didn't bother arguing. A contractor. They'd be contracting a mech's LIFE for vorns, binding him to them. Ravage growled softly to himself. He'd never liked the Service Administration or what it administered. It was one step up from slavery in his mind. Taking part in that system rubbed his plating the wrong way, though he knew that none of his cohort shared his views.

The mech did look promising. And wasn't it better for him to be contracted to someone who would treat him as an employee rather than an indentured servant?

::I will never know,:: Ravage grumbled, ::why I stick with you. I knew I should have asked Graylight to cohort with me.::

Laserbeak sent a glyph of playful derision at their sibling's name. ::You always liked me best anyway. I'll set up the appointment. Leave it to me!::

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soundwave's first login of the day always brought him a small avalanche of message notifications. His first action was to filter, deleting both the all-too-frequent offers of short-term, high-paying contracts for a "personal attendant", or the other extreme-long-term, low-paying contracts looking for cheap labor. Soundwave's build was such that he got more of the latter than the former, thankfully.

Once weeding out those obvious dead ends, there was still a sizable list of possibles. There was considerable interest in such a skilled contractor, which gave Soundwave hope that he would not have to settle too badly. Still, he could already triangulate the convergence of contract term, pay, and acceptableness of the work duties and found that it was not particularly enviable. Contract work was contract work for a reason, after all. If it was fun or lucrative, it would not be the territory of debtors like himself.

And even if the contracts were profitable, they would still make Soundwave stare at the list of durations in misery.

Ten vorn. Twenty vorn. FIFTY vorn. The numbers underlined how, no matter how he calculated, it would be a long time until his wages and his time were his own again. Until he could again earn for himself and any who might depend upon him. Until he could offer any sort of home to anyone...and probably even longer until any respectable symbiont would consider a carrier who had been driven to such lengths.

Soundwave firewalled those thoughts and continued to scan, pleased in a small way that some inquiries had been made about a personal interview. It was progress, at least. The sooner he could start, the sooner his life could be his own again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unfortunately, his first few interviews had been...unsatisfactory for all involved. One prospective contractee, a media and entertainment mech, had been obviously disturbed by Soundwave's lack of charisma. Another, Soundwave had caught trying to sneak extra duties into the contract without proper compensation. Yet another had been so reluctant to describe the details of the contract duties that Soundwave could only conclude that they were either extremely distasteful or illegal. Possibly both.

Readying himself to leave the Service Administration Registry building for the day, Soundwave checked his messages once more, and wasn't sure whether to be pleased or dejected that he had another interview request. Face to face negotiations were not part of his function, and the amount of social interaction that day, coupled with repeated disappointments, had him longing to head back to his quarters and rest. Still, the shuttle fare to the Registry was not insignificant, and it would have been a shame to pay it twice unnecessarily.

Soundwave answered the inquiry, indicating his willingness to meet. The prospective replied immediately, and in the space of a breem, Soundwave had an interview set up for later in the day. He exvented heavily, heading to one of the contractors' private lounges to wait out the intervening time. The room was crowded, and Soundwave stood against the wall, pulling up a datafile to read while he waited.

Another carrier sat six rows away, a small flightframe on her shoulder. They were both scratched and pitted, obviously from some kind of outdoor labor that exposed them to the elements. They also both had the fine-strung tremors of long-term stim addiction, yet when the carrier reached up absently to scritch at the flightframe's outstretched wing...Soundwave couldn't help a wave of longing and jealousy.

At the appointed time, he gathered himself and headed to the assigned appointment room. The chamber was tiny, meant for privacy more than comfort, and contained only a table and two chairs, one of which held two cassettes. A gray felidframe sat on the chair seat, while a flightframe, colors similar enough for them to be siblings, perched on the back.

Soundwave stopped short, staring.

Cassettes. And such rare types, too. Soundwave rechecked the assignment, then the room number, making sure that he was not in the wrong place. He was not.

He scanned the small room, but there was obviously no carrier present.

"Apologies. Meeting scheduled with contractee applicant 4903857723-9."

"That would be me," the flightframe replied, settling his wings. "Us. You are contractor 897612463?"

Soundwave nodded. "Affirmative." He moved into the room fully, letting the door close behind him. He was uncertain still but at least reassured that this strangeness was not somehow his fault. Cassettes as contractors? Where was their carrier? "Designation: Soundwave."

"I am Laserbeak. This is my cohortmate, Ravage. Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice."

Soundwave nodded, taking the opposite chair.

The cassettes' optics were sharp, observant as they followed his movement. Laserbeak settled his wings and straightened a bit on his perch. "Our cohort includes the two of us, two other flightframes, and two mechframes. We are in need of a data and pattern analyst. We have read your skill list and think that you might be a good fit for the position."

No mention of a carrier. Which made sense, as if they had one, he or she would have been here. Still...such a large cassette cohort with no carrier? It was almost unheard of. What was this cohort like, that it did not want...or could not keep...a carrier? It was intriguing as well as slightly worrying. Obviously these were atypical mechs.

Soundwave drew his processor out of its calculations and nodded again. "Affirmative. Expertise in analyzing large and complex datasets, pattern recognition, and efficiency studies. Specialty in communications. Previous experience with military and industrial systems."

Ravage, who until this point had been silent, sat up a little straighter at that. Laserbeak looked rather smug.

Soundwave looked between them, wondering what silent communication he was missing. "Your cohort's area of interest?"

"Varied!" Laserbeak said cheerfully. "We are freelancers, specializing in data gathering and analysis. Obviously we would handle the gathering, and you would handle the analysis-"

Soundwave listened intently as Laserbeak described some of the job duties and responsibilities. The cassette cohort contracted out to businesses in need of surveillance and security services. They were an integrated and highly-skilled security team. However, when paired with an analyst, they also specialized in security design, optimization, and testing. The latter obviously paid better than the former, and thus their search for an analyst.

The work sounded interesting and refreshingly complex. It was slightly different than Soundwave's previous positions, but not alarmingly so, and Soundwave had to admit that he relished the idea of being part of a team. Laserbeak (and Ravage, though the felid had spoken rarely, and then only to ask fair but pointed questions regarding Soundwave's skills) had been nothing but completely professional. There had still been no mention of a carrier or of carrier duties. Not that such things were usually determined through a contract such as this, but...Soundwave hated to be surprised.

A small, traitorous part of his processor wondered what he would do if the cassettes did suggest him becoming their carrier for the contract duration. It would be scandalously improper, but the cassettes seemed respectful and pleasant enough and...though they would never be Callback and Fastbit...Soundwave suspected that just connecting to a friendly cassette, reaching out with processor and servos to ease corrupted code and kinked connectors would be...pleasant.

Soundwave was still pondering that question when Ravage straightened and asked, "How did you come to service?"

Laserbeak twitched and looked hard at his cohortmate, the comm lines between them almost visibly sizzling. "Yes, yes, I know," Ravage said aloud, long, graceful tail twitching in irritation, "but this is no ordinary job. The term would be long and the work close." He turned back to look at Soundwave, optics sharp and almost painfully observant. "I want to know what we would all be getting into, who we would be bringing into our home, and the question, no matter how rude, gets at several possibly pertinent personality traits. I apologize if I am overly blunt, Soundwave, but I am sure you can agree."

Soundwave nodded. That question had been the silent gestalt in the room in his other interviews. Perhaps those prospective contractees would have also asked it, eventually, but none had broached the subject in the first joor of meeting him. Soundwave was almost...relieved to have it out in the open so quickly. It was something like ripping a nanite patch off a wound all at once instead of in excruciating increments. "Soundwave's previous cassettes, contracted K-6 recombinator virus. Experimental treatments extensive, expensive, but...ineffective. Debts remain, credit exhausted, service most efficient path to independence."

The two cassettes shared a look between them, and Soundwave steeled for something polite and dismissive, or perhaps weakly sympathetic. Instead, Ravage said blankly, "You put yourself into service-level debt trying to save your cassettes?"

Soundwave nodded, unsure how they would react to that admission. There had been those whom K-6 had hit only lightly. Perhaps they thought him a liar, or irresponsible, or foolish? "Cassette programming, particularly susceptible to K-6 intelligence variant. Standard antivirals failed, programmatic treatments yielded poor results, code integrity compromised-" Now they were staring at him. He had misunderstood something, was not responding correctly. Soundwave stumbled to a halt, spark aching at the self-generated reminder of that last, terribly quiet vorn, when Callback and Fastbit had been unresponsive, little more than sparks guttering in shells barely supported by corrupted programming.

Soundwave firewalled that memory, terminating the thread as he drew back, regrouped, and redrew his professionalism around him. "Infection, abnormally severe. Investment in treatments...reasonable risk."

"Reasonable?" Laserbeak exclaimed incredulously.

Ravage's vocalization was soft. "Of course it was. It's what any proper carrier would have done." Ravage rose to his feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you distress. It sounds as if you have made the best of a bad situation." He turned to look at Laserbeak, and the two of them conversed silently for a long klik while "proper carrier" echoed in Soundwave's audials, the term as Ravage had used it modified with glyphs of competence, caretaking, and protection.

Finally, Ravage stretched, jumped down lightly and paced over to Soundwave. He, like Laserbeak, was well-kept, though not over-groomed. Their finishes were serviceable but not showy, their movements easy and fluid, their very designs agile and dexterous. They were very different than Callback and Fastbit's sturdy mechframes...and quite lovely.

Soundwave firewalled THAT thought as well.

Ravage's tail twitched around his feet. "Can we go somewhere else to talk? Somewhere less..." another tail twitch "...institutional?"

"There is a park a block away," Laserbeak added helpfully. "Very public. We could walk."

"Yes," Soundwave answered. It didn't take much deliberation. Any excuse to get out of the Service Administration building. "Certainly."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The park was showing signs of wear, its paths and crystal formations weathered by traffic and acid rain, but it was spacious. Laserbeak shot up, looping lazy circles in the sky above them as Soundwave and Ravage walked. "This is awkward, I know," Ravage said, after a few moments wandering the paths. "With you and us being unbonded. I want to assure you, however, that this is not some backhanded attempt to court you as a carrier."

::It's not?:: Laserbeak sent to them both from above, his glyphs teasing.

"Please ignore my cohortmate, he has yet to realize that he is not funny," Ravage snapped. ::Stop it,:: he followed up, on the cohort comm frequency. ::That's not something you should joke about. Have some respect.::

Laserbeak grumbled about siblings with no sense of humor but subsided.

Ravage sighed. His cohort were their own worst enemies, sometimes. Honestly, if Laserbeak didn't drive Soundwave away with his flirting, no doubt one of the others would do SOMETHING boltheaded. Probably the twins.

Luckily, Soundwave did not appear to have taken offense. "Understood."

Ravage continued on, hoping to leave the moment behind as quickly as possible. "Our building is on the outskirts of the city and has plenty of room. Your contracted living quarters would be there. We also would live in the same unit, but your duties would be strictly analytical. We have no need for a housekeeper-shut UP, Laserbeak-as we are quite self-sufficient." Ravage waited to speak again until a group of mechs passed them on the path. "Our cohort is...lively. Diverse. Our youngest...several of our youngest...can be quite brash and disrespectful at times, one of our eldest quite exacting. We all, however, know well how to work with non-cohort. We are dedicated, fair, and..." Ravage paused, searching for the right glyphs.

"What my vocalizer-glitched sibling is trying to say is that we've never employed a mech in service before, but we know the rules and will keep to them." Laserbeak landed on the back of a nearby empty bench. "We don't have any weird underhanded agendas, we're not out to take advantage of you, and we hope that we can all get along and get what we want out of this." He cocked his tiny helm at Ravage, red optics glinting with humor. "Right?"

"...right." Ravage chuffed a sigh and snuck a look up at Soundwave. He wasn't certain (the mech's faceplate design made reading his expressions difficult), but he thought he saw something like a smile pass over the carrier's face. Ravage hoped, for Soundwave's sake, that it was. The carrier wouldn't last long around Rumble and Frenzy if he had no sense of humor.

"Soundwave: understands. Also does not want unnecessary...awkwardness due to frametypes." The large mech paused. "Soundwave...desires own cohort again, but will search for and court that cohort only after service to yours is ended. Courtship when debts paid: only reasonable course."

Ravage was beginning to like Soundwave's sense of responsibility. It would be a wonderful change from their last analyst.

Or their last carrier, for that matter, a traitorous and utterly inappropriate corner of his processor whispered. Ravage nixed that thread immediately.

"No desire to complicate working relationship with unprofessionalism," Soundwave concluded firmly.

::Too bad,:: Laserbeak sent along a private line. ::I like him. And he's nice on the optics. Bet he'd have good hands, too. Maybe a nice set of docks-OW! That was unnecessary!::

Ravage left the private frequency ringing with his displeasure, and replied to Soundwave, "Excellent."

Laserbeak leapt down to land on Ravage's back, nipping at the felid's audials idly. ::He meets your qualifications?:: Laserbeak asked.

::Yes. Good enough for a trial period, at least. We should set up another meeting so the others can-::

"Oh, look, it's Buzzsaw and Ratbat," Laserbeak said, leaping into the sky to skirl a looping display. Ravage reached out for his cohortmates' coordinates and sighed as one of the quickly-approaching dots in the sky chirped back a greeting as Ratbat and Buzzsaw closed in.

"What. A. Coincidence," Ravage gritted out. There were very few reasons that their cohortmates would be in this area, and all of them started with a certain impatient flightframe.

Luckily, Soundwave did not take the sudden influx of cassettes badly at all, greeting the newcomers as Laserbeak introduced them. He didn't even take offense when Ratbat, with the youngest's typical exuberant enthusiasm, landed upon his shoulder with barely a by-your-leave.

"You are going to come work with us?" Ratbat asked, talons scrabbling for a firm hold on Soundwave's blocky shoulder. Soundwave raised a steadying hand when Ratbat wobbled, and the little cassette chirred delightedly.

"That is what we are deciding, obviously," Buzzsaw replied exasperatedly. He landed on a nearby railing, wings folding into a stately drape. "Soundwave," he greeted the carrier. "I have seen your work. You designed the Precis Industrial Park communications system, did you not?"

Ravage was gratified to see that he was not the only one surprised by that information. Soundwave looked surprised at the question. "Affirmative. Soundwave, Callback, Fastbit, overhauled internal communications grid to include IO-10 security, decrease hardware dependence, and increase signal identification and tracking capabilities."

When working for Precis, their integration with the in-house security had been flawless, mostly because the company's systems had slotted the independent contractors into the internal comm grid so seamlessly. The system had been well-organized and flexible enough to give them full reporting capabilities without anyone being paranoid about them hearing anything they shouldn't.

"Impressive work," Buzzsaw stated, preening just a bit at catching his cohortmates flat-footed. "And you have taken your analytical programming qualifiers through level 14, I see. What were your subscores?"

"Analytical: 10-A. Quantitative: 10-B. Qualitative: 9-A. Dialectical: 9-B."

"And before your recent difficulties, how many workdays per cycle would you estimate that you claimed for personal activities?"

Soundwave hesitated for a moment. "0.0093."

Even Ratbat, who had settled on Soundwave's shoulder and set to grooming without a care, looked at him oddly.

Soundwave shrugged, gently so as not to dislodge his passenger. "Soundwave: enjoys his work."

Buzzsaw clicked a rare laugh. "Fair enough. If you don't mind a bit of a practical, could you do this analysis, please?"

Laserbeak sent a mostly-fond ::Hardplates:: over the cohort comm, and Buzzsaw replied irritatedly on the same frequency, ::Well, SOMEONE should actually verify his skills.::

Ravage vented a sigh, optics drifting away to the skyline as Soundwave nodded. Cassette and carrier were silent for several long moments as files were transferred, analyzed, then retransferred. Finally, they were done, and Buzzsaw actually looked impressed. "Excellent! Thank you, Soundwave. If you'll excuse me, I have some work yet to attend to."

::I approve,:: Buzzsaw said as he took off. ::His capabilities will be very compatible with our needs. Offer him a 25-vorn contract. That should be fair.::

Ravage looked over at Ratbat, who was all but drowsing on Soundwave's shoulder. ::Ratbat? Do you want to ask him anything?::

Ratbat roused, visibly thinking hard for a moment before shifting to look at Soundwave and ask, "What do you do when you're not working?"

Buzzsaw, now a rapidly-disappearing speck in the sky as he headed up into the public flightlanes, sighed exasperated glyphs before dropping from the channel.

Soundwave seemed surprised at the question, and Ravage was quick to add, "Not that we would monopolize your free time, of course. Ratbat merely asks as a way to get to know you."

Ratbat's head swivelled to look at Ravage blankly, "He would live with us for a long time. It'd be nice if he liked some of the same things we do. It's important!"

"I know. But the service contract places strict limits on what we can and can't ask of him, Ratbat," Ravage said, tail twitching.

"Not asking! It's not that complicated!" Ratbat said, wings spreading a bit in agitation before settling. He turned to peer at Soundwave. "Right? You don't HAVE to spend time with us, but we're all right there, so it would be nice, right?"

Soundwave, to Ravage's relief, nodded with every evidence of honesty. "Soundwave, not averse to casual socialization. Teams...work better if extra-professional relationships also established."

Ratbat blinked at Soundwave in a way that Ravage knew meant their youngest had missed something. "Um. Yeah!"

"Soundwave, enjoys puzzle games, microengineering projects, repair work-"

Ratbat made a face. "Repairs aren't FUN."

Soundwave lifted a hand up in a shrug. "Performing repairwork...gratifying. Soundwave has experience repairing cassette mechframes, would be glad to add repairwork to duties in exchange for modification of contract term."

Laserbeak perked at the very idea. "That...that would be nice, actually. Maybe if we had a repairmech in-house, we could actually get Ratbat REPAIRED."

"Nothing wrong!" Ratbat protested. "Just fine!" He looked at Soundwave, flightplates rustling anxiously. "Don't listen!"

Soundwave nodded solemnly. "Of course."

Laserbeak, meanwhile, was running contract length calculations, then sending them in data-bursts to Ravage. Ravage noted that his calculations were suspiciously detailed, including expected offers and counteroffers. It was rather obvious that Laserbeak's feelings matched Buzzsaw's.

Ravage had to admit that having someone who could look at his medial spinal linkages when they cricked out of alignment sounded...nice.

Ratbat grumbled but resumed leaning toward Soundwave's helm as he pinged on the cohort frequency. ::I like him.:: Ratbat looked at them looking back at him. ::What? I like him. I think he likes us, too, or will. That's important, too, you know.:: He perked a bit. ::He'll be recharging in the room next to mine, won't he? We can talk! And tell stories!::

::He's not definitely coming yet, 'Bat. He hasn't even met the twins ye-::

"There they are!"

"Awesome!"

Ravage just LOOKED at Laserbeak. The flightframe looked back, utterly unrepentant. ::It's more efficient this way,:: Laserbeak replied. His tone was smug. ::He'll like that.::

::You're assuming the twins don't scare him away. A very large assumption.::

"Hi, Soundwave! I'm Rumble, this is Frenzy. We're the fun part of this cohort."

"Yeah!" Frenzy bounced on the tips of his pedes a little bit before hopping up onto the bench Laserbeak was perching on. "Hope they haven't bored you with all the, y'know, boredom."

Soundwave shook his helm. "Negative. Conversation, quite pleasant."

"Whoa, you talk funny!"

Ravage nipped at Frenzy's pede. "Don't be rude. It's a sector 17 Academy dialect."

Rumble looked mildly impressed. "Academy? Whoa, so you're good. Eh, you must be, or Buzzbrain would've sent you packing."

Soundwave made a vague gesture of modesty.

::He's qualified for the ANALYST position,:: Ravage sent to the twins pointedly on the cohort frequency.

::Aaaaw,:: Frenzy replied, thankfully on the same channel. ::So he's not gonna be our carrier? Didja ask him? Because oh man, lookit that chest. Makes me just wanna-::

Ravage cut him off with a squeal of static, definitely not wanting to know what Soundwave's chest made Frenzy want to do. ::NO, and be polite. We're thinking of taking him on as an analyst on a provisional basis. Is there anything that you want to ask him before that?::

Rumble and Frenzy looked at each other, obviously communicating over their private band. They looked at Ravage, then at Soundwave, who had waited patiently through all the private cohort chatter.

"So!" Frenzy said, "You play any games?"

~~~~~~~~~~

Soundwave returned to his quarters that night in a daze.

The cohort had offered him a provisional contract for 19.5 vorn right then and there in the park.

Soundwave had been concerned that the situation was too good to be true, that the cassette cohort would reveal their true colors in negotiations. But though Laserbeak had been a skilled negotiator, there had been no surprises. No new duties suddenly popping up, no exploitative contract terms, no unfair pressure tactics.

Well, if one didn't count the sleepy weight of Ratbat on Soundwave's shoulder the entire time as a pressure tactic.

Soundwave had accepted the provisional contract simply because he had no reason not to. He had waited for the other bolt to drop. He had kept waiting as they'd decided on terms, contract length, the details of the trial period that he would start the cycle after next. He'd kept on waiting until his signature was on the contract next to the six cassettes'.

If anything, Ravage had been more concerned about the swiftness of the contract signing than Soundwave had been. "Are you certain you don't want some time to think this over?" the felid had asked.

Soundwave had shook his head. "Position, interesting and challenging. Terms, acceptable. Contractees, friendly, reasonable." Not to mention that his own hurried research on them had pulled up nothing incriminating, if one did not count Rumble and Frenzy's tendency to get banned from gaming forums. "Situation...better than expected. Soundwave, desires to start immediately."

"Yay!" Ratbat had crowed, wings twitching excitedly before he launched off to circle around Soundwave's helm. "Great!"

"Indeed." Laserbeak had nodded. "We are glad to have you aboard, Soundwave."

Buzzsaw's remote message of welcome was even more formal, and Ravage had merely nodded.

The two little mechkin, so very young and (thankfully) so very different from Callback and Fastbit, had rocked delightedly on their heels. "So," Frenzy said. "Game of Perspectix, once you're settled in? We'll give you a four-Seeker handicap!"

The entire thing had come together almost shockingly quickly, but Soundwave could not find a reason to fault that. As far as he could tell, his contractees seemed straightforward and not prone to overthinking. He was what they were looking for, and so they had offered him a contract. They were what he was looking for, and so he had accepted.

Soundwave looked about his assigned quarters, bare and quiet except for the sound of his neighbors on five sides through the thin walls. Somewhere nearby, someone was shouting incoherently. So it had been for decacycles, as he had searched in vain for work.

This place was a holding pattern. Stasis.

Being in service, better than here, Soundwave thought firmly.

Callback and Fastbit would approve of that sentiment, if nothing else.

_"You're always too modest. Too conservative," Callback had said one night, curled close against Soundwave's chest. "You gotta just go for it sometimes, or you'll never get anywhere. Right, 'Bit?"___

_Fastbit murmured sleepily against Soundwave's neck, little hands still under Soundwave's plating, stroking cables and sensors gently. "You're fine," she said, the sweet vibration of her voice felt as much as heard. "You're strong and competent and ours." She pressed her helm to Soundwave's. "Don't sell yourself short."_

"Soundwave: will not," Soundwave had promised.

It was as he'd told Ravage: the situation was more than acceptable. He would even be free of his debt a vorn or two earlier than his most optimistic calculations.

His contractees were smart, amusing, pleasant. They were going to make him ache for his own cassettes every day, but that...that was all right. He was used to living in close contact, and being alone the last few decacycles had been...suboptimal. Living with his contractees would solve that problem nicely. And seeing cassettes every day would...motivate him. Remind him of what he was working toward: an end to his debt, so that he could once again have a cohort of his own. Small lives and frames and sparks: his to care for and treasure.

Soundwave transmitted several messages as he took his turn in the communal washracks: one to the housing authority and one to the fuel dispensary, notifying them of the change in his needs. One to Starscream, which earned him an immediate response resulting in a concerned and slightly screechy demand for more information about these sudden contractees. The conversation was long and tiring but ultimately comforting. Soundwave reiterated that he would pay Starscream's trine back what they had lent him when 'Back and 'Bit had been ill. Starscream again insisted that if Soundwave continued to insult his generosity by calling it a "loan", he would never speak to the carrier again. Soundwave (again) ignored him.

That night, for the first time in a vorn, Soundwave fell into recharge looking forward to the cycle ahead. He would gather a few things, set a few matters in order and then...

Then he would get to work. Finally.

~~~~~~~~~~

Glossary:  
breem: Cybertronian minute

joor: Cybertronian hour

cycle: Cybertronian day

decacycle: Cybertronian week

vorn: Cybertronian year

service mech / contractor: a mech who has taken on an indentured servitude contract in exchange for the payment of a debt. A mech will contract to work for a contractee who will have the contractor's services for the negotiated number of vorn, in exchange for payment of the contractor's debt to a third party.

contractee: as above, a mech who agrees to pay a contractor's debt in exchange for receipt of a negotiated number of vorn of the contractor's services.

carrier and cassette: Two frametypes designed by hardware and code to be paired for optimum functioning. Carriers are framed to support and dock the small docking altmodes that the cassettes can transform into through physical and coding upkeep. Carriers are not physically required to have cassettes, and cassettes are not physically required to have carriers: their pairings are just culturally expected.

cohort / cohortmates: a family grouping, which can be formed of siblings and/or lovers. Carriers and cassettes usually form cohorts of one carrier and one or more cassettes. Cohorts are usually polyamorous, with many pairings of two or more cohortmates forming according to mutual interest.

sibling / cohortsib: two mechs who are siblings / who are siblings and in the same cohort. (thus, someone can be cohortsib and cohortmate at the same time to the same person, or simply a cohortmate.)

courting: the carrier/cassette process of investigating/getting to know a person for possible inclusion into a cohort. In carrier/cassette culture, courtship can be initiated by either party. A carrier will court only one cohort at a time, and vice versa.

bonding / bonded : a term for formally becoming or being part of a cohort.


End file.
